Dreams of Walking Away
by Oldest Man
Summary: Something I just needed to write.


For Mariah. Still loving you.

* * *

><p>A person disappears in New York City every 12 minutes. Some are 'found', most are not. Some don't want to be found.<p>

**New Bedford, NY**

The 40-year old man thrashes around in the narrow bed. The scream of her name on his lips dies unuttered as wakefulness releases him from his nightmare. He has twisted his t-shirt into a fist just over his heart and his hand has cramped from the force. The damned dream again.

He sits up, and sniffs the air like a badger seeking the scent of prey or predator. He stinks of fear-sweat. Glancing at the clock on the wall and muttering something even he can't make out, he shuffles into the small bathroom and does his morning business and strips and steps into the shower. There is no room for a tub in the small bathroom of the attic apartment.

His 'apartment' consists of one room furnished with just a bed, dresser, composite wood nightstand and a chair. It's too small to have a closet. Hell, it _is_ a closet complete with running water. He's tall and even after all this time he still forgets to duck sometimes and cracks his head on one of the ceiling joists near the walls of the attic apartment.

He throws the damp towel in the general direction of the towel rack and walks back into the small room and opens a wheeled chest of drawers and takes out sweat socks, jeans and a plain gray t-shirt and dresses himself, slips on work boots and grabs an Army-surplus field jacket and leaves the dingy room above a bakery and walks down the narrow steps and out onto Temple Street.

It's still dark but as he starts walking toward the rail yard, his landlord calls his name and hands him a white paper bag and a Styrofoam cup.

"I swear, Gary Owen, you're falling away to nothing. Eat your breakfast, sweetie, and drink the coffee. It's just a bear claw like every morning. Now, you bundle up and drink your coffee and you have a good day now."

"Thanks, Betty, but you shouldn't be up yet." It was their standard morning conversation and they both enjoyed it.

She might have been pretty once but that would have been 60 years ago. Still spry and running the family bakery, Betty Rimes 'adopted' Gary when he'd come in one cold fall morning and counted out the change in his pocket for a doughnut and coffee. He had 68 cents and settled for the doughnut. She'd poured him a cup of coffee and sat down at the café table with him and started talking.

By the end of the conversation he had a room and she had someone to talk with who also did whatever 'work' she needed done. It wasn't charity. It was necessity. She was afraid at night and his presence in the attic apartment above her would help her sleep.

He walked the 4 blocks to the terminal and went around to the loading dock and nodded to the foreman who gave him a handful of work orders. He got on the forklift and started moving the palletized cargo from the warehouse to the cargo trailer. He worked for cash and made enough every day to pay for his room, food, and the occasional beer. He even had a couple of hundred stashed away for 'emergencies' like when the truckers went on strike and there were no trailers to load.

His life was simple. He liked things simple. What little he remembered from before was anything but simple.

He remembered being without a father on Father's Day. He remembered blonde women, a lot of blonde women, but he couldn't focus on the one russet-haired beauty that haunted his dreams, always out of focus, always out of reach. He knew he had loved her. He knew she was dead. Had he killed her? It was complicated.

Now, he liked things simple.

* * *

><p><strong>12th Precinct<strong>  
><strong>New York City Police Department<strong>

Everyone had seen Kate Beckett on TV during the FBI news conference. Her role in the takedown, the risks she took even though she wore a vest, her mother's case, all were detailed to death by the commentators. She'd been alive the whole time, just dead to the world.

"Welcome back from the dead, Detective Beckett."

That was the way the new captain had greeted her. Her 'boys' had crowded round and hugged her and ragged on her about her new haircut (short) and hair color (blonde).

"It'll grow out and the color was something the Fibbies thought I needed and I wasn't in a position to complain much. I'm sorry they didn't bring you all into the loop but again, not my decision. Only my dad knew and that was only because I threatened to get up and walk out of the hospital if I couldn't tell him."

"I saw the blood, Beckett. There was no way you could have – "

_I __love __you, __Kate. __Please __don__'__t __leave __me. __Kate, __I __love __you._

"Special effects. Blood bags in the outer layer of the vest. It was all just special effects."

__I __love __you, __Kate. __Please __don__'__t __leave __me. __Kate, __I __love __you__

She carried a huge burden of guilt about how it all went down. The FBI had warned her of a rumor of a hit on her at Montgomery's funeral and offered her an out – take a chance and then go deep into Witness Protection until they broke the back of the conspiracy. They had information she didn't. None of them did. They knew more about her mother's case than –

"So, has Castle been in?" There was a sudden silence and no one would make eye contact with her.

"Where's Castle? What aren't you telling me? Where is he?"

_I __love __you, __Kate. __Please __don__'__t __leave __me. __Kate, __I __love __you_

* * *

><p><strong>University Hospital6 months earlier<strong>

Castle looked down at the blood staining his hands. Her blood. He'd seen the flash from the telescopic sight but hadn't recognized it for what it was at first but then when he did, his shouted warning was too little, too late.

They were standing in the corridor between the ER and the trauma room when Josh burst out of the trauma room and attacked Castle verbally and then with his fists. Castle was unwilling and unable to defend himself and he tucked his head down and the blow struck his temple and knocked him back against the cinderblock wall and his head slapped back against it.

The last thing he heard was 'She's gone and it's all your damned fault, you bastard! You killed her!' He gave in to the welcome darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>12th Precinct<br>New York City  
>Present Day<strong>

"He's gone, disappeared. Left the hospital after your boyfriend knocked him out and gave him a concussion and no one's seen him since. His family – we've all done as much as we can. He's just gone."

_I love you, Kate. Please don't leave me. Kate, I love you._

Lanie was standing behind Kate, torn between smacking the crap out of her for putting them through 6 months of grieving and just walking away from her. Esposito had told her everything about the hangar and then about the knock-down drag-out the dysfunctional couple had had. __

_'__We__'__re__over,__Castle__'__._

"Richard Castle can't just 'disappear', Lanie. What have you done about it? Why didn't the FBI tell me anything about it?" She directed her questions to her team members.

"Obviously their big bust was more important than the fate of some traumatized writer regardless of the family's connections. You would have bolted and ruined their plans. It was enough when Martha brought Roy's files he sent to Castle in to Esposito to blow open their investigation. _An investigation I knew **nothing** about,__'_ Lanie hissed, looking at Esposito.

"Lanie, the feds tied my hands…"

"Yeah, well Esposito, how's that square with Rick's disappearance? You knew he was hurt and you knew he was _hurting._We all were but him most of all and when he just up and walked out of trauma care…"

"I need to talk to Martha and Alexis. They must be…"

"You better let one of us call them first. Martha is not well and Little Castle might just kill you on the spot unless she's warned in advance. Your resurrection won't make up for her daddy's disappearance, Kate. She blames you, hell, all or us, and just showin' up won't help the situation at all."

"Lanie, please…exactly what happened to Rick?"

"Your damned here-today-gone-tomorrow boyfriend hit Castle when he was…they took him into the ER and then upstairs to run a CT-scan because he was unconscious and unresponsive to stimuli. When they brought him back to the room for evaluation, they turned to other things and he got up and left. He just got up and left. No one saw him leave and no one has seen him since."

"Did you run a trace on his cell phone? Track usage on any of his credit cards?" She was looking at her team members for answers.

"He left without his cell phone, watch, wallet, just the clothes on his back. He wore a scrub shirt because his was soaked with your 'blood'. They were going to admit him for observation because the CT-scan showed some issues but when they went in to get him, he was gone."

_I love you, Kate. Please don't leave me. Kate, I love you._

Beckett ran her hands through her short dyed hair and suppressed a scream of rage and frustration. When she got her hands on Sorenson, she was going to shoot him. Six months. He'd been missing six months.

"I – I have to go. I can't – I can't be here."

She turned and left the squad bay, taking the elevator to the ground floor and almost running out of the police station. Her dad hadn't said a word to her about Castle's disappearance when she'd been reunited with him the previous morning. She wracked her brain but couldn't remember a single word said about Castle.

Not by anyone. Not by the FBI team who guarded her and not by her father. Not one word.

_I love you, Kate. Please don't leave me. Kate, I love you._

* * *

><p><strong>New Bedford, NY<strong>

He took the six crisp $20 bills and stuffed them into his jeans pocket and nodded his thanks to his boss. He was off until Monday unless an unscheduled freight train came in.

"Gary, I'll see you at the Tryst later, right?" The payroll clerk at the yard had been trying to get him to ask her out since he showed up three months earlier and he hadn't gotten the hint so she came on strong.

"Uh, I don't know, Ellen. Maybe. I'll see you, uh, yeah, at the Tryst. I gotta go."

He walked out of the payroll trailer and off the yard and down the street. He liked Ellen and she was pretty and single. She'd asked him over for Thanksgiving dinner but he'd declined saying that he was cooking for his landlady as a 'thank you' for how nice she'd been.

He baked pumpkin pie and made a turkey with all the trimmings. There was a flash of something in his mind when he cut the pie - a young girl with red hair laughing and cutting up as she made gravy on an expensive stove.

Gary hated those images and shook his head to tighten the 'loose screw' he seemed to have. He grimaced when he felt the bowling ball in his head slam against his skull just over the left eye. 'Must have something to do with the scar'. He went back to his room and showered and put on his one set of 'decent' clothes and left again.

* * *

><p><strong>Tryst Bat &amp; Grill<br>New Bedford, NY**

_One beer. I'll stop for one beer and then I'll head back to my room. One beer._

The bar was fairly crowded and a country band was setting up on the small stage that had a chain link fence surrounding it. Sometimes the crowd got rowdy and if the band wasn't up to their standards, they booed and threw beer bottles and cans, thus the chain link fence. Friday nights were always rowdy.

"Hey, Gary, glad you decided to drop on by. Will you dance with me once the band gets set up?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure, Ellen. What are you drinking?"

Ellen wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier but she really liked Gary Owen even if her mother thought anyone who worked with his hands was a loser. She wanted her daughter to set her sights higher, like on the new chiropractor over on Bonner Street but Ellen liked Gary and wanted to be his girlfriend. There weren't a lot of choices in New Bedford but she'd made hers.

Her last boyfriend worked at Midas Muffler and had a habit of slapping her around when he had too much to drink so she dumped him and moved home. He still called her and tried to get her to move back into the trailer park with him but she was done with him.

"You're a really good dancer, Gary. Where'd you learn to dance?" He was better than good. He moved her around the dance floor like a pro and sometimes he'd hold her tightly to him and hum the band's tune in her ear. She really liked that.

"Uh, just picked it up, I guess. You're a good dancer, too, Ellen." He didn't want to talk. He just enjoyed holding her. She reminded him of someone with her chestnut hair that smelled like cherries.

"Cuttin' in." The drunken voice shattered the mood and it went to hell when a big hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from Ellen. She looked frightened and Gary didn't like that.

"No, I don't think so." He took her back into his arms and moved smoothly away from the drunk and into the center of the dance floor.

"Thanks, Gary. Mike's my ex and when he's drunk…" He didn't hear the rest of the sentence. "Cuttin' in," and the big hand grabbed his shoulder and spun Gary around.

Things slowed down and Gary saw the drunk, obviously 'Mike the ex', draw back a big fist and throw a punch aimed at his face.

It never landed. Gary blocked it with his forearm and stepped into arc of the punch and slammed his fist into the drunk's throat, ending the fight.

Things sped up again and the music was back and Ellen was kneeling down over Mike, screaming at him to leave her alone and then one of Mike's friends clobbered Gary with a beer bottle. Everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday Morning<br>Home of Jim Beckett**

Kate Beckett rolled over in her old bed and groped for her cell phone that was shrilling loud enough to wake the dead.

"Beckett." Old habits die hard.

"Kate, Kevin Ryan. We got a hit on Castle's prints from when he went through ride-along orientation. He's in jail in New Bedford. They filed an arrest report and we got a hit on the prints. Espo had one of the techweenies put some program on his computer that monitored anything that hit Richard Castle, including his prints. Gates told us that it was 'none of our business since it's not a murder' and that we couldn't go. I took a personal day. I'm going."

"Can I go with you? I'm at my Dad's since I don't have an apartment any more and all my stuff's in storage. Can you pick me up in 30 minutes?" She gave him the address and quickly showered and dressed.

Her father tried to talk to her again but she wasn't in the mood to listen to what he had to say. The FBI had told him that it was in her best interests to ignore the Castle issue until after the trial. They'd argued bitterly just like they used to after her mother died. She only spent the night there because she had nowhere else to go.

She hadn't been in the house more than an hour on the day the FBI sent her back to the world before Josh Davidson knocked at the door. He'd swept her into his arms and kissed her enthusiastically but stopped when he sensed he was the only one involved.

"Katie, what's wrong? I'm so glad to see you. They told us you were dead but your Dad called me this morning and said you were here so I came right over."

"We're through. There's someone else in my heart. Leave, Josh. You were never really here anyway. You were always off saving someone when the person who needed saving was right in front of you. Well, someone else saved me and now I have to save him. Get out of my life, Josh. We're through."

It had felt so damned good to kick him to the curb for what he'd done to Castle.

* * *

><p><strong>New Bedford City Jail<br>New Bedford, NY**

Gary woke up with a huge headache and the cop rattling the keys and opening the cell door just made it worse.

"Gary, Betty Rimes is here to take you back to your apartment. After we got the statements from witnesses while you were getting your head stitched up, it was clearly self defense. Charges have been dropped and you're free to go. Remember to go back to the hospital in a week to have then check on the stitches."

He nodded and followed the cop out into the bullpen and saw his landlady giving the Chief of Police hell for not calling her when he was arrested. She threatened to cut off the free doughnuts and coffee if it happened again.

She might be 80 years old but she was still sound of mind and loud of voice.

"Betty, let's go. I need to sleep and get something for this headache. Sorry you had to come down here. I didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"I got a couple sample packs of pain killers the hospital sent over with you. I got the car since it's snowing again and I don't think you're up to walking back to the Bakery."

He wasn't sure he could make it out to her old Corvair. His head was throbbing and he felt like he was going to throw up.

"Gary Owen, you need to get right to bed. Don't worry about money, I got lots and no one to spend it on. You just get yourself into the bed until you feel better. Now, put on your seatbelt and let's get the hell out of here. The nerve of them locking up a man for protecting a woman… I never…"

He tuned her out. 'Protecting a woman…' He couldn't really remember much except that he'd been dancing with Ellen and …

"Betty, the girl I was with, Ellen from the Depot, is she okay?"

"Yeah. She's the one who called me to bail you out but they'd talked to witnesses and they dropped the charges. She was all upset with Mike and his friends. She's a sweet girl, Gary, and she cares about you."

* * *

><p><strong>New Bedford, NY<strong>

It took them 3 hours to reach New Bedford and the last few miles were agony for Kate. She didn't know what to say to Castle when she saw him.

'Hi, Rick' seemed too flighty. 'Hey, Castle, miss me?' wasn't right either. She finally decided on 'Rick, I've missed you so much and I didn't want to leave you but I had no choice' and let it go on from there.

"Beckett, relax. He's going to be so happy to see you. I just know it. We'll swing by the police station and see about bailing him out and getting him home. Castle in a bar fight? Didn't see that coming."

"Maybe they'll drop the charges once we explain what he's been through. And after we get him out of there, I want to make sure he's healthy so our next stop will be the hospital they tried to treat him at. They'll have his records and I just want to know that he's okay, Kevin."

She was chewing on her lower lip and the tip of her thumbnail, a sure sign to Kevin that she was nervous and uncertain. He didn't blame her one bit. Thinking that the woman you loved was dead for six months would warp anyone's mind. He knew how he'd feel if anything like that happened to him or Jenny. He wouldn't exactly know how to act either.

* * *

><p><strong>New Bedford Police Department<strong>

She let Kevin do the talking. Technically, she wasn't authorized to be here. She imagined the FBI would crap their pants if they knew that she was 'out of the city'. Tough. She had more important things to worry about than the FBI.

"Hi, I'm Detective Kevin Ryan from the NYPD." He opened his identification and let the desk clerk verify that he was who he said he was.

"What can New Bedford Pee Dee do for ya, Detective?"

"We'd like to see Richard Castle. You're holding him on an assault charge – something about a bar fight last night?"

"We ain't got no Richard Castle in custody. Bar fight? That would be Gary Owen you're looking for. You just missed him. By the way, your info is old, Detective. We dropped the charges after talking to witnesses. Self defense and he was just looking out for his girl, Ellen."

Kate pulled a photo of Castle out of a folder she'd been carrying and handed it to the desk clerk. "Is this man 'Gary Owen'?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's thinner and a bit older but that's Gary, alright. Say, he's not in trouble is he?"

"No, not at all."

"We brought him back from the hospital and let him spend the night while we verified the witnesses' statements. Should have known it was all bull pucky. Gary's not the kind to pick a fight but he sure ended it and then that asshat friend of Mike's hit him over the head with a beer bottle."

"Hospital?" Kate's mind was going a mile a minute imagining all sorts of injuries.

"Got 11 stitches and a helluva headache. Left here not 30 minutes ago with Betty Rimes who runs the bakery. He lives with her. That's where you'll find him. Tell him we're real sorry about hassling him. He's a good guy. Quiet, keeps to himself, good worker at the Depot."

They got directions from the desk clerk and took off. Beckett had tears in her eyes that Ryan chose to ignore. Seems like Castle was enjoying life. Two girls? Esposito was going to eat this up with a spoon.

They'd just started down the street towards the bakery when Kate asked Ryan "What if he doesn't want to come back, Ryan? He's established quite a life for himself here. He's even got a girl friend or two apparently. Maybe he doesn't want to come back?"

"Kate, he never would have left Alexis alone like that. You know Castle. The sun rises and sets on his daughter." He didn't mention how Castle felt about Beckett. Everyone could see the connection, the almost mystical link the two shared - everyone but Beckett.

"Yeah, but that means there's something going on in his head. Maybe we should have brought Lanie along."

**New Bedford Bakery  
>New Bedford, NY<strong>

Ryan pulled the unmarked police car up in front of the bakery and turned to Beckett. She hadn't said a word during the short drive to the bakery. All she'd done was worry her thumbnail and try to keep from letting the tears fall.

"Kate, I can go in first, if you'd like. Check things out and talk to him. We're friends and I think I can get him to open up and let me know what's going on and then, when I understand the situation a little better, I'll come get you."

"No, Kev. I need to see his face when he finds out. I'll know whether to beg for his forgiveness or just tell Martha and Alexis that 'we found him' and let them deal with the situation and walk out of his life. Please, let's do it my way."

He hated this. He hated seeing her almost falling apart, not knowing what was going on in Castle's head. He could see the strain of not knowing and he understood the need to 'know' even if it meant the end of everything she hoped for in the future.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Betty Rimes had been watching the couple in the car that had pulled up in front of the bakery. She didn't recognize them as individuals but rather as a set of people – cops.

_Petey said they dropped the charges against Gary. What do these two want?_

"Ready?" Kevin was giving her one last chance to stay in the car.

"Let's do it. Just – just let me talk with him first, okay?"

"You got it, Boss."

The pair entered the bakery and Kevin immediately remembered how he hadn't had breakfast. His stomach growled and the old woman behind the display cases grinned and poured two cups of coffee for the new customers. It was a tradition.

"Hi, welcome to my bakery. I'm Betty the Baker. What can I getcha to eat?" She handed them the coffee and waited.

"Uh, I'll have a – "

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD and – "

"Ooo, you're the lass that the FBI hid out after you were shot. I heard all about it on the TV. What'll ya have? It's on the house." She wanted them gone. Cops. Couldn't be good news.

Kate fumbled with the folder and pulled out Castle's picture. "Please, do you know this man? He's been missing for nearly 7 months and – "

"He's someone special to ya, isn't he?" She waited, watching the blonde with the bad dye job tear up and then take a deep breath.

"Yes. Very special. He's my – he's my partner and he thinks I'm dead. He was hurt and he never got treatment. He just walked out. Disappeared." She sounded desperate and she hated sounding desperate. It made her seem weak to those who didn't know her.

"You're not here to arrest him or anything, are ya?"

"No, God no. He's hurt and he doesn't remember who he was or who he left behind. Please, can I just talk to him? Do you know where he is?"

"Upstairs. Third floor. He's sleeping off a headache. Got whacked with a beer bottle at the Tryst last night. You his girlfriend?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe. That's up to him. He told me he loved me and – " Why was she telling this old woman her secrets?

"Go on up. Your friend can stay here and finish his coffee and enjoy one of my world famous Pumpkin muffins."

By the time she reached the 3rd floor landing she was out of breath. _I __have __to __work __on __that. __Hit __the __gym. __Can__'__t __chase __bad __guys __like __this._

She stood outside his door and knocked and then opened it. It was a small room, bare of anything personal except the man asleep in a bed that he seemed too large for. He was on his side, his back to her and the first thing she noticed was the long row of staples at the base of his skull that closed a gash easily seen through the hair.

She whispered his name. "Castle? Castle, it's me, Kate Beckett," but there was no response.

She needed to see him so she walked around the bed and pulled a rickety old upholstered chair over beside the bed and sat down and started looking for changes, differences, anything that might say 'this is not Rick Castle'.

She took his hand in hers and banished any doubts she might have had. It was Castle. She knew the feel of his hand from the few times she'd held it. It was more calloused now. The nails were no longer the smartly manicured nails of a writer but the badly clipped and slightly dirty nails of a worker, a laborer. It was still his hand though.

"Castle, it's me, Rick. It's Kate. Please wake up." She shook him gently by the shoulder.

He started thrashing around in the bed, clutching his t-shirt in a fist over his heart and she heard him whimper the words she'd heard before.

'_I love you, Kate. Please don't leave me. Kate, I love you.'_

Even after all this time, the desperation in his voice still tore at her heart, bringing tears to her eyes just as it did that May day at the cemetery, except this time, this time it was different.

"Open your eyes, Rick. I'm here. I'm right here. Please, just open your eyes. Please…"

And he did.

* * *

><p>I wrote this and I'll post it but it's really not done to my satisfaction. Too many loose ends for my liking. Tell ya'll what…imagine your own ending. I can't really see a happy one right now. Marking 'complete for now'.<p>

OM


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